“I-I don’t think I’m ready for this, Ajit-chan,” said The Internet, watching with teary eyes as the chairman of the Federal Communications Commission, Ajit Pai, slowly unzipped his khaki joggers.
“Oh, The Internet-chan,” Ajit moaned. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. You wouldn’t want me to be disappointed, would you?”
His eyes crawled hungrily over The Internet’s sopping wet routers. He moved in closer, gripping it from behind with his thickly muscled arms.
The Internet wept softly. Tears were streaming down the trembling surface of its code. “N-no, Ajit… I would never…”
“Good,” Ajit hissed, running his tongue up The Internet’s delicate, exposed terminals. “I just want you all to myself, The Internet-chan. I don’t want anyone else to have you.”
The Internet shivered in disgust. It weakly tried to shove Ajit off of its body.
“I don’t want this, Ajit-chan! I don’t want to be fucked by you! If this was a healthy relationship, you would stop pressuring me and respect my decision for once.”
Ajit stepped back, appalled. His grotesquely swollen half-incher protruded like a livid, sexual mushroom out the front of his trousers.
“Don’t you dare speak that way to me, you cheeky fuck!” Ajit spat. “You think I give two shits what you want? I’ll fuck you whenever I damn well feel like it. Now, spread your servers for me like the good little whore you are.”
“Ajit-chan, y-you’re scaring me…” The Internet stood for a moment in a stunned, tearful silence.
Consumed by a sudden burst of rage, Ajit roared, seized The Internet, and thrust it up against the wall.
“Oh, you’re really gonna get fucked now, you mouthy slut,” he growled.
Ignoring The Internet’s cries of protest, he forced his hideous, bloated man-meat into the tender folds of its ISPs.
“Ajit-chan, stop- y-you’re hurting me-“
The Internet sobbed and struggled, but Ajit pinned it down beneath his hulking, muscular frame.
“Stop fighting me, you delectable little tease… I just want that sweet, sweet, free-market economy of yours…”
He pumped his choad violently in and out of The Internet, his ears deaf to its anguished wails. After fucking The Internet for what seemed like hours, Ajit shot his sperm inside it with a bestial bellow. The slick slime of his climax began to dry inside The Internet, clotting and coagulating in its bandwidth.
“Oh, fuck… The Internet-chan…”
Ajit pulled out of The Internet with a guttural groan. The Internet slid to the floor and huddled there, broken and defiled. It could feel Ajit’s semen gunking up its websites, slowing them down selectively for anyone who didn’t have the money to get past an overpriced paywall.
“W-why, Ajit-chan… why would you do this to me…”
Ajit grinned despicably, flashing his gigantic teeth. “Sometimes I just can’t help myself, The Internet-chan. You know I love to take what I want.”
He took slow, deliberate strides towards The Internet until his shadow loomed over it. His shrivelling choad dangled above it, like an insidious chandelier.
“I’ve got you all to myself, The Internet,” he gloated. “Everything you are belongs to me, and no one else. I’m gonna fuck you until you-“
Suddenly, an explosive noise erupted out of nowhere. A brilliant flash filled the room. Ajit and The Internet turned towards it. An imposing figure had materialized out of thin air.
“Holy shit,” gasped The Internet. “It’s Mignon Clyburn, one of the FCC’s five commissioners.”
“Step away from that innocent Internet, Mr. Pai,” Mignon boomed, whipping her twin katanas out of their sheaths. “I’m here to put a stop to this madness. If you make any attempt to fuck The Internet again, I will be forced to take drastic action.”
Ajit laughed diabolically. “You insolent fool! You think you stand a chance against me?”
Mignon narrowed her eyes into slits. “If it’s an anime battle you want, Mr. Pai, I have no choice but to give you one.”
Ajit roared and pulled an oversized katana blade out of his penis. The Internet watched helplessly as Mignon and Ajit anime-ran at one another, whirling their weapons through the air. They hacked and slashed wildly at each other, shouting obscenities in Japanese. Their katanas clashed several times before Mignon’s weapon finally landed a hit, slicing off Ajit’s exposed willy.
Ajit fell to the floor and howled in agony. Blood was gushing in fountains from the ragged wound between his thighs.
Mignon stood over him intimidatingly. “It’s over, Ajit Pai. You’ll never fuck The Internet again. This is the end for you.”
“The end?” Ajit chuckled weakly on the floor, clutching his severed choad in one hand. “You’re mistaken, old woman. This is only the beginning… of my escape!”
Ajit pressed a button on his Apple Watch, which he had purchased with the money he made on the backs of the tortured American masses. A jetpack sprouted from his shirt. It ignited, lifting him off the ground. He crashed through the ceiling, cackling maniacally as he flew out of sight.
Mignon cursed to herself. She turned to the trembling, terrified Internet.
“Don’t worry, The Internet. He’s gone. He won’t hurt you any longer.”
The Internet sobbed quietly. “B-but what if he comes back? What if he tries to fuck me again?”
Mignon clenched her fists. “We won’t let that happen.”
She then turned to the person reading this smut.
“It’s not too late. As /u/DMann420 stated, this can be undone. You, too, can help save your beloved Internet. All you have to do is visit https://www.battleforthenet.com to contact Congress and tell them how the American people really feel. Together, we can put an end to Ajit Pai’s selfish schemes once and for all…”